


Let the Chips Fall Where They May

by myrtlebroadbelt



Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, F/M, Gambling, Hangover, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 13:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19854076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrtlebroadbelt/pseuds/myrtlebroadbelt
Summary: The last thing Kelly remembered was sipping cosmopolitans and losing at the slot machines, while Nathan was off to try his luck at the dice table. If only they still had their powers, she would read her own mind to fill in the blanks.Kelly and Nathan wake up in Vegas.





	Let the Chips Fall Where They May

**Author's Note:**

> They all sold their powers, but nothing else in the Christmas special happened.

Kelly woke up seeing stars. No, not stars. A star. One star. But it wasn’t actually a star. It was a drawing of a star. No, a tattoo of a star. On a wrist. 

She knew she’d been drinking last night, but she didn’t remember getting a new tattoo. She must have been drunker than she thought — as confirmed by the headache currently splitting her skull in two.

Her hair was in her face, and she reached up to brush it away. The only problem was that the tattoo didn’t move with her wrist. This was because it wasn’t her tattoo, and therefore wasn’t her wrist, which she could see clearly now that her hair was out of her eyes.

Speaking of hair, there was some of it next to the wrist that had the tattoo. It was peeking out over the top of the duvet, dark brown and curly and oh shit, it was Nathan. She was in bed with Nathan.

“What the fuck!” Kelly shouted, sitting up and promptly pulling the duvet over her chest when she realized she was only in her bra and knickers.

At the sound of her voice, Nathan jerked awake and rolled out of the bed in a tangle of naked limbs, his head just barely missing the bedside table.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned from the floor.

Hesitantly, Kelly crawled to the other side of the bed, wrapping the duvet around herself. She peered over the edge of the mattress and sighed with relief to see that Nathan was at least wearing underpants.

He squinted up at her. “My head hasn’t hurt this much since I got beaten to death.”

“Why are you in my room?” Kelly hissed.

“Isn’t this _my_ room?” 

Kelly looked around for evidence, but all she found were empty liquor bottles from the minibar, as well as both of their clothes strewn across various surfaces. One of her shoes was sitting on a half-finished plate of room-service chicken nuggets, and she recognized Nathan’s socks draped over the lampshade.

She tried a different question: “What happened last night?”

“Drunk,” was all Nathan could say.

Yes, that had been well-established. The last thing Kelly remembered was sipping cosmopolitans and losing at the slot machines, while Nathan was off to try his luck at the dice table. If only they still had their powers, she would read her own mind to fill in the blanks.

Kelly was too hungover to keep beating around the bush. “We didn’t shag, did we?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Nathan replied, massaging his temples.

At that moment, there was a cacophony of ringtones as both of their phones went off at once. They ran frantically around the room in search of them, moaning about the noise. Kelly found hers in the ice bucket, while Nathan’s was stuffed inside one of the pillowcases.

They answered at the same time. Kelly’s call was from Alisha, who told her to meet the rest of them downstairs for breakfast in half an hour.

“All right, Barry, there’s no need to shout,” Nathan was saying on his own call. “Well, it sounds like you’re shouting, so pipe down.”

When they had both hung up, they turned to look at each other across the bed. It was then that Kelly realized she was standing there half-naked, and hurried to wrap the duvet around herself again. Nathan must have had the hangover of the century, because he didn’t even leer at her. 

Less surprisingly, he made no effort to cover himself, instead striding over to the window in nothing but his boxer briefs and nearly ripping the curtains off the rod in his attempt to close them.

“What twat decided to make Vegas so sunny?” he grumbled.

They arrived at the breakfast table forty-five minutes later, half-showered and hastily dressed, wearing cheap sunglasses from the hotel gift shop. Neither of them said another word to each other about what may or may not have happened the night before.

They mumbled greetings to the rest of the group and sat down in the two empty chairs. Nathan reached so eagerly for the coffee pot that he nearly overturned it. They both grabbed handfuls of pastries out of the basket at the center of the table, and got to work stuffing their mouths and burning their tongues.

Everyone else was strangely quiet, but they could hardly complain, considering the clink of silverware was enough to make them wince.

Finally, Alisha spoke up: “Uh, are we gonna talk about what happened last night?”

“Did one of you hit the jackpot?” Nathan asked through a mouthful of croissant. “Because if so, you’re treating. And I’m ordering extra bacon.”

“She’s talking about you two,” said Nikki, as if it should be obvious.

Nathan and Kelly exchanged a glance, which didn’t communicate much considering all four of their eyes were covered. They sat there in silence for a moment, chewing and thinking.

“Oh man, you don’t remember,” Curtis said, hiding his smirk with his coffee cup.

“Stop dicking around,” Kelly warned them, thinking maybe the group had decided to take advantage of their obvious hangovers.

Alisha turned to Simon. “Show them.”

Reluctantly, Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket. He brought up a photo and handed it across the table to Kelly. Both she and Nathan removed their sunglasses to peer down at it.

“Hey, look, it’s Elvis,” Nathan said cheerily. “Wait, why are we kissing?”

The photo was taken in a gaudy chapel, and the two of them were wrapped around each other at the altar, snogging each other’s faces off while a bedazzled Elvis impersonator looked on. Kelly’s hand, which was slung clumsily over Nathan’s shoulder, was holding a white bouquet.

“Because we got married, you dickhead,” she groaned, throwing the phone down on the table and burying her face in her hands.

“Oh, shit,” said Nathan, voice vibrating with laughter. “Wow, we were really drunk.”

Kelly lifted her head to glare at him. “How can you be laughing about this?”

“Well, it’s not like it’s real, is it?” he said. “You can’t get married in America if you’re not American. It doesn’t count.”

“Actually,” Simon said, carefully reaching over to retrieve his phone, “it does.”

“Really? Well then, this is awkward.”

It was made even more so by the sudden appearance of the waiter, who asked if they were ready to order. Curtis had to cut Nathan off to say they needed more time to decide.

“Wait a minute,” Kelly said when he was gone, “why the fuck didn’t any of you stop us?”

“We tried to,” said Alisha. “You left us a message telling us to come, but we didn’t get there in time. You were already swapping spit when we opened the doors.”

“Hey, Barry, send me that photo, will you?”

Kelly lowered her head to the table with a thud, and it all started coming back to her.

**Twelve hours earlier ...**

Kelly smacked the side of the slot machine and stood up, teetering slightly on her heels as she drained the last of her drink and walked away for good. Why did she even come on this trip if she couldn’t make money from it?

Everyone else was off being romantic, while she had nobody. Sure, Nathan didn’t have anybody either, but when did he ever let that stop him from having fun?

Speaking of Nathan, there he was at the dice table, annoying everyone around him as he took an eternity to roll. Kelly had to admit he cleaned up well, and she could take partial credit — she had helped him pick out the suit that very afternoon.

He finally tossed the dice ... and lost, based on the way he kicked the table leg.

She walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. “How’s it going with you?”

“Well, they’re obviously trick dice,” said Nathan, loud enough for the dealer to hear.

Kelly shrugged. “Wanna come up to mine and order room service?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied, finishing off his martini — which she was certain he had ordered just to imitate James Bond.

When they got up to her room, Nathan threw his jacket on the floor and leapt onto the bed. Kelly called in their food order and then tossed him a bottle of whiskey from the minibar.

“So, what are the couples up to this evening?” Nathan asked, taking a swig.

Kelly took off her shoes and collapsed next to him. “Alisha and Simon are at _Cirque du Soleil_ ,” she said, opening her own bottle. “Curtis and Nikki said they were gonna go ride in one of those boats. You know, the fake Italian ones.”

“Ugh,” Nathan groaned. “They make me sick, the lot of them.”

“Yeah,” Kelly couldn’t help but agree. “I mean, I’m happy for them and everything. But it’s a fucking bummer to be around after a while.”

“Who needs love?” Nathan said, tapping his bottle to hers. “We’ve got alcohol.”

And boy, did they have alcohol. Several bottles of booze and half a dozen plates of greasy room service later, they were sprawled across the bed in opposite directions, drunkenly recounting their disastrous romantic histories.

“I mean, I shagged a monkey. What is that about?”

“Gorilla,” Nathan corrected, belching. “And at least he wasn’t old. Was he? How old was he? I bet he wasn’t eighty-two. Eighty-three next month.”

Kelly made an I-don’t-know noise. “How long are monkey years?”

“Gorilla,” he said again, and then didn’t answer her question.

Kelly reached down to the floor and picked up her unfinished plate of chicken nuggets, which had now gone cold, although she couldn’t tell the difference. Nathan, meanwhile, had taken his socks off and was lobbing them at the lamp on the dresser.

“I was supposed to be fucking married by now,” Kelly said, trying to dip one of her chips in ketchup but missing the cup. “I had the fucking ring and everything. And then I got that fucking power and it fucked everything up.”

“I’ll marry you,” Nathan said without hesitation.

Kelly shook her head. “No, we’re not allowed to get married. We’re … cousins or something.”

“Nah, we can’t be cousins. We have different accents.”

“Oh. Right,” said Kelly. She supposed that made sense.

“Seriously,” Nathan said, clawing his way across the bed until they were face to face. “I’ll marry you. Right now. Tonight. Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

Kelly blinked at him. He was resting his head on his hand, his eyelids drooping as he looked at her. His white shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and there was a mustard stain on one sleeve. He let out the briefest of burps and smiled.

She smiled back. “That is so fucking romantic.”

**Twelve hours later ...**

She knew from the rhythm of the knock that it was Nathan.

“Hey, Mrs. Young!” he said when she answered.

Kelly rolled her eyes and went back into the room, leaving the door open for him.

“Too soon?” Nathan said, following behind her. “Sorry.”

She returned to the bed, where she had just spent the past two hours watching _Real Housewives of Something or Other_ after fleeing the breakfast table. 

Nathan sat on the edge of the mattress. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” she said, flipping through the channels.

“Well, for one, I remembered whether or not we shagged last night.”

Kelly tensed. “And?”

“We didn’t.”

She exhaled. “Thank fuck for that.”

“We almost did, though,” Nathan continued. “I asked if you wanted to, and you said yes, but you had to run to the toilet and puke first. So I took my clothes off and got into bed, but when you came back out you said you were going down to the casino.”

Kelly sat forward. “What?”

“Yeah. Then I passed out. What are you doing?”

Kelly had leapt off the bed and was already entering the combination to the safe in the closet. When she opened it, all she found inside was a crushed beer can.

“Fucking bloody bollocks!” she shouted.

“What, did we accidentally adopt a baby or something?” Nathan asked, coming over to her.

Kelly slammed the safe door shut. “I gambled away all my money.”

Brilliant. She had sold the only thing that made her special, and now all she had to show for it were some expensive clothes, the worst hangover of her life, and a wedding she couldn’t even remember. 

“Well, at least marrying me wasn’t the worst decision you made last night,” Nathan offered.

He waited patiently while she got all the swear words out of her system, and then the two of them sat together on the bed in silence, half-watching TV. Kelly forced herself not to raid the rest of the room’s alcohol — she could afford neither the bill nor the bad decisions.

“So,” Nathan said after a while. “What are we gonna do when we get back home?”

“Get an annulment,” she answered, without looking away from _Jersey Shore_.

“Okay, interesting suggestion,” he said. “Or! We could not do that.”

“Stop taking the piss.”

“I’m serious,” Nathan insisted. “Maybe we can try this out for a while, see how we like it. Didn’t you say last night you wished you were married?”

“I was off my tits.”

“Yeah, but … _in vino veritas_ , right?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, I heard it in a film once.”

Kelly tried to imagine being married to Nathan, but all that came up was a blank screen. It was hard enough to picture him as her boyfriend. Picturing him as her husband was flat-out impossible.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No way. I ain't marrying you.”

“Already did, love.”

“You know what I mean.”

“All right, look at it this way,” he said. “The last people we shagged were an eighty-two-year-old woman and a gorilla. Everyone around us is pairing off. Maybe the universe is telling us we’re meant to be together.”

Kelly grimaced. Typically, she would think of messages from the universe as romantic, but the reminder that she’d had sex with a gorilla was throwing her off.

“Think about it,” Nathan went on. “We’ve got months of bickering under our belts, and you’re always cooking me dinner. It’s like we’ve been married this whole time.”

“I’m broke,” she reminded him. “And you only got two grand for your power. How are we gonna pay for anything?”

“First of all, that bastard robbed me,” he fumed. “And second, how are we gonna pay for anything _without_ being married? This way, at least we can get a few gifts out of people.”

“Where are we gonna live?”

“I don’t know, maybe one of the gifts will be a house.”

Kelly sighed, but it wasn’t without fondness. Nathan had an answer for everything.

“Come on,” he said, nudging her. “You know you love me.”

He was right, the prick. At times, she had struggled to define the exact type of love, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love him at all.

“You really wanna be married to me?” she asked, remembering what happened the last time she drunkenly accepted a proposal.

“Sure I do,” Nathan replied, and took her hand where it rested between them. 

Kelly looked at him. He was wearing a tacky Las Vegas T-shirt he had bought from a guy outside the airport, and the sunglasses from breakfast were pushing his hair back. There was a bit of stubble on his chin from skipping a shave. He was smiling at her.

She wished she could still read his mind, to know if he really meant it or if it was just Nathan being Nathan. Was he thinking that he loved her, that he wanted to take care of her, that there was nobody else he would rather be with?

Maybe he was. But then again, maybe she didn’t need to hear his thoughts to know that all those things were true. Maybe he had already told her, in his own way, right now and last night and so many times before that. And anyway, maybe it was time she stopped focusing so much on other people’s thoughts and started focusing on her own.

Thoughts like, _I love him_ and _I wanna take care of him_ and _There’s nobody else I’d rather be with_.

“All right,” she said, smiling back at him.

Nathan raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. “Really?”

She answered him by leaning in for a kiss they would actually remember. This time, it definitely didn’t feel like kissing her cousin. It didn’t really feel like kissing her husband, either. It just felt like kissing Nathan, and that was good enough for her.

“You won’t regret it,” he said when they broke apart. "And if you do, you know, I'm mortal now. You can just murder me."

Kelly nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Glad we're on the same page," Nathan said with a grin, and then bit his lip suggestively. “So ... what do you say we pick up where we left off?”

She gave him an apologetic look. “I still have that fucking headache.”

“See?” he said as she got up to retrieve her aspirin. “We really are married.”

With a chuckle, Kelly dragged her suitcase out of the closet. It felt unusually heavy, considering she had taken almost everything out of it after they checked in. An explanation arrived when the case popped open in her hands, sending an avalanche of casino chips across the floor with a comical clatter.

Kelly and Nathan stared down at the chips, then up at each other.

“Right,” said Kelly. “Where do you wanna go on honeymoon?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was totally inspired by the Ross/Rachel [married-in-Vegas saga](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXTIZqrg8wU) on Friends.
> 
> Can we please bring this pairing back from the dead? (Pun absolutely intended.)
> 
> I’m on [tumblr](https://myrtlebroadbelt.tumblr.com/).


End file.
